


Love Me, Love Me

by Emperor



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Cowgirl Position, F/M, Hangover, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Morning Sex, Spooning, Unrequited Love, lizardhat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emperor/pseuds/Emperor
Summary: He loves her. Of that, she is absolutely certain. After all, why else would he let her in his bed?





	Love Me, Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a suggestion i got in the comments of my last story. sorry that it didn't come out the greatest fhdskfsdf rip. i had SO MUCH FUN writing it tho, so i guess that's what counts ahaha. still taking suggestions on lizardhat fics btw.

Dawn cuts through the darkness like a sizzling knife – brilliant, golden, ethereal. It gilds the edges of the antique furniture, splashing itself across polished mahogany bedposts and shimmers in the fibers of heavy, crimson drapes. Though the curtains of the canopy bed are drawn tight, Demencia’s reptilian gaze can see the morning light seeping through; brightness outlining the cracks in the flowing red shield and making the room in which she lounges, naked with her boss by her side, a handful of degrees warmer.

Perhaps also sensing the change in daylight, Black Hat – her boss, her master, the object of her affection – stirs, rolling towards her beneath the silky weight of the feather duvet, a groggy moan rasping from between his vicious set of green-grey fangs. He levers himself up on one elbow and, with a gentleness that almost convinces her she’s still enthralled by slumber, kisses her softly on the lips. Demencia can smell the bitter tang of the alcohol from the night before lingering on his breath, a scent that tells her he’s deliriously hungover, if not still a little drunk. She’s been to enough shitty parties to know the feeling.

She sighs languidly into his kiss anyway, and though she knows it’s an illusion sculpted by alcohol’s lying hands, Demencia tells herself that Black Hat truly loves her. He hadn’t allowed her into his bed last night because he needed a warm crevasse to plunder in his fit of screeching, drunken rage; nor had he done it because he was either too wasted or too cheap to purchase the service of a common whore. After all, why waste money to wet your wick when you have a woman at home willing to do it for free? But, no, no, that was not why he let her in. Not why he let her in at all, she is certain. To consider the notion of such – the possibility that he simply sought worthless, intoxicated sex – is a sin to even entertain, a pockmark of a thought staining the pure white truth of the emotions shared between woman and demon. The truth is because he loves her.

Demencia sits up, her joints creaky and stiff. She turns in his direction and props herself up on her pillow, careful to avoid the bruised evidence of last night’s activities staining her pale limbs. She flashes Black Hat a gleeful smile, all blunt, white teeth and four tiny fangs.

“Morning, handsome.” Her voice is a sultry, hungry purr.

Black Hat flops back down into his nest of pillows like a sack of sand, shadowy, taloned hands reaching up to clutch his throbbing skull. He groans, and Demencia’s heart clenches in pity. He’s the only one whose pain never brings her joy. “Demencia, help me out of bed. The world is _spinning_.”

“Why leave the bed when you can, you know, just stay in it and sleep?” Her hand quests beneath the covers, dainty fingers with chipped nail polish seeking his warm thigh and sneaking up over its soft crest towards the valley of his crotch.

“Because I have bloody work to do.” He keeps his hands over his eyes, does not visibly react to her touch.

Ignoring his protests, Demencia’s questing hand finds the tapered, tentacular length of his cock. Delighted that it’s already slightly hard, she gnaws her lower lip to prevent a grin from splitting her face.

“Do you really, though?” She squeezes and moves her hand upwards towards its pointed tip. “I mean, you are the boss. Who’s gonna come down on you for it? _Flug_?” She punctuates this with a cackle and another squeeze that draws a hushed moan from his lips.

Black Hat’s hips give a single, involuntary jerk and he removes his hands from his blood-shot eyes. His grin is diabolical. “Screw it, you’re right. To hell with the clients.”

If she listens carefully, Demencia can hear the otherwise barely noticeable slurring of his words, confirming her suspicions that he’s still under the influence. This does not surprise her, as she doesn’t think she could ever convince him to take the day off under any other circumstances. Demencia considers this a small victory, though some part of her, shut away deep beneath layers of insatiable love for this man who will never love her back, tells her this is no victory at all.

She shushes the voice, however, crushes it beneath a proverbial boot, and moves her hand a little faster, feels his cock grow a little harder. The touch of his warm length against the palm of her hand makes the heated space between her legs tighten with yearning.

Beads of pre leak from the apex of his shaft, making her hand slick and sticky. A heady moan rumbles in the back of his throat, the sound intoxicatingly masculine. Demencia smiles as his fangs dig into his lower lip and his claws rake the sheets.

“God dammit, woman.” His hips twitch forward, pressing his hard cock into her touch. “Hurry up, you’re going too slow.”

“What’s that?” She smirks and cups her free hand to her ear, feigning deafness. “You want something?”

He snarls, the sound like the hiss of an angry panther. “You know what I want.”

Demencia rises to her hands and knees and prowls towards him, situating herself on top of him so that her breasts press directly against the flat plane of his smooth chest. She expects him to protest, but instead he reaches up, placing his clawed hands against her back, and pulls her closer so that her face is nestled into the crook of his neck. Demencia nibbles at the dark flesh and breathes in his scent, a sweet mix of aftershave and tobacco. His hard cock presses against her thigh. She wants it, perhaps even more than he wants her, but she isn’t ready to take it, not yet.

“I should kill you for this,” he says as she trails kisses down his neck. “How dare you fucking make me wait.”

She stops when she reaches his protruding collarbone, giving his skin a tiny love bite before she sits up. Calloused fingers caress his chest, trailing across silky skin that seems too soft to belong to a creature like Black Hat, one who is all points and angles, malice and fear. He’s beautiful, every inch of him, and she wishes that one day he will look at her the same way, understand her worth and beauty. She wants to give him all of her heart, wants it so badly it hurts, but how can he take what he cannot see?

Demencia grinds her wet opening against the length of his shaft, her own hunger beginning to become unbearable. “I only make you wait because I love you.”

“If you really loved me you’d–” His words are cut off as his breath hitches in his throat.

Demencia sinks down, letting his hard length slip inside her eager warmth. She grins, the tip of her tongue sticking out, and one finger playfully, teasingly pressed to her cheek. Eyelashes fluttering, she gazes longingly down at his face, which is now comically and adorably contorted into a rictus of frustration and desire.

“You were saying?” One hand roams over the flat expanse of his stomach. She clenches herself around his hard cock and giggles with delight as he squirms beneath her. “I can’t seem to remember what it was you wanted.” She tilts her head, single golden eye luminescent among the shadows. “Care to jog my memory?”

His forked tongue flicks out between clenched teeth. “I want you to fuck me.” His words are an angry growl.

Demencia pouts. She wiggles her bottom, feeling jolts of pleasure as his heat presses inside of her. “But I want you to make love to me.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever.” His claws tear cloudy furrows in the plush mattress. “Just do it already.”

His words are weaker than wet paper. She knows she’s only dredged even this much out of him due to his lingering drunkenness. But she takes it as if his word is gospel, as if he truly said “I want you to make love to me” rather than a series of clipped, exasperated words designed to shut her up and give him want he wants. Demencia’s eyes light up with unabashed joy and she rocks herself against him, moving herself up and down the long length of his shaft, their combined motions rocking the elegant, four poster canopy.

Gnawing his lip and clenching his eyes shut, Black Hat sighs in pleasure and relaxes against the sheets, riding with her motions, occasionally hissing and growling under his breath as his body twitches beneath her. He looks so cute like that, eyes shut and lips slightly parted, showing off the pointed tips of his fangs. So deceptively vulnerable, someone she wants to protect forever, to kill for again, and again, and again. She wants to feel the blood of every hero run hot beneath her fists, if that’s what it will take to make him happy. For a moment she thinks to lean down and kiss him, but the hot tingling between her legs is too much, too distracting. She doubles her pace, the slap of flesh meeting flesh sounding throughout the room beneath their combined exclamations of pleasure.

 _He loves me_ , she tells herself. _He loves me, otherwise, he wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t let me do this. With him._

Black Hat grows stiff beneath her, his body seizing as he unleashes a hot jet of seed into her yearning cunt. The joy of it, of knowing the warm flow now coursing within her most secret of places is from him, creates a great swell of pleasure within her that is far too explosive for her to contain. She throws her head back, her blonde and red mane falling around her in tangled strands, and cries out as the orgasm surges through her, an electric sensation that makes her heart race and her limbs tremble. It feels as though the moment goes on forever, as though her body might just burn to cinders with the intensity of the love she has for this man. For a moment, she is stalwart in her conviction that he adores her. He loves her so much and she wants to scream it to the stars, but all she can manage is a soft strangled cry of elation.

But then it lessens, bringing with it a sudden sadness, until at once she again she is back on earth, beside the man who she wishes could love her the way she loves him. The illusion is over, and she remembers that he’s just hungover and horny, and that only one person in this room is actually in love.

Hiding her frown, Demencia rolls off him, trailing the damp evidence of their love making, and rolls onto her side. She stares at the cracks in the canopy’s curtains, tired but unable to fall asleep.

Contented and oblivious, Black Hat snuggles into her back, arms wrapped around her waist, his sigh rumbling and gravely like a cat’s purr.

Demencia feels happy and hollow all at once; the recipient of a prize won by cheating. A single tear slips from the corner of one eye and makes its lazy descent down the curve of her cheek. Lacing pale fingers between the black talons resting above her stomach, Demencia waits to hear his gentle snoring before sleeplessly closing her sad, yet forever hopeful, eyes.


End file.
